


The Aftermath

by Gladrial



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Arkham Asylum, F/M, Normalization of an Abusive Relationship, Sexual Content, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-24
Updated: 2006-02-24
Packaged: 2017-11-29 19:31:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gladrial/pseuds/Gladrial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when two of Arkham's doctors disagree on treatment regarding the Joker and Harley?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: RisqueSno
> 
> Coverart by Blithefool of deviantart: http://blithefool.deviantart.com/art/Ah-Romance-189398194
> 
> Spoilers: Follows my story 'The Ultimate Betrayal'
> 
> Disclaimer: DC owns all these characters and WB owns DC and Time Warner owns WB and I'm pretty sure the rest of the world.

The Aftermath: Chapter One

The floodgates had been opened, just as she'd feared.

Dr. Joan Leland headed directly for her bed upon returning home. All she wanted was the comfort of a good nights rest after her weary day at the asylum. It was no use though. The blessed relief of sleep had been evading her for some time now.

She knew it was a bad idea from the very beginning, and had expressed such the best she could. They never should have had that therapy session with Joker and Harley together. Still, Joan had to admit, she couldn't think of a way it could have been avoided.

Word had spread quickly about the session. Of course, she knew it would and saw little point in trying to hide it. She had told Dr. Arkham that the entire thing would only serve to legitimatize their twisted relationship in Harley's eyes, but it did far worse than that. It seemed to have had an effect on the entire staff!

Before, the doctors ignored the couple almost completely. They were never instructed to, but there seemed to be an understanding from them all that it was the best course of action, even if they did find it worthy of further study. It was a little different for Joan of course. She had to deal with the relationship if she had any hope of healing her patient; however she always kept it within her office.

The situation was entirely different now. The simple fact that the two had a session together seemed to mean to the rest of the staff that they could all dig in. Most of the doctors had already asked to see her notes on the session, even if they had nothing to do with either patient. She didn't participate in the conversations 'around the water cooler' anymore. The last time she had made an attempt, the others had tried to draw her into a debate about an upcoming article in People's magazine that was apparently featuring an article on 'the year's wackiest couples.' When asked whether she thought the recent Hollywood tabloid couple of interest or the asylum clowns were going to make the cover, she left in disgust.

From a psychiatrist standpoint, she knew the whole thing was fascinating or rather…it should be fascinating. She didn't see it like the others did, maybe because she was too close to Harley. So many of the other doctors had already written these patients completely off. For them, they were just subjects to study and maybe write a profitable book on. Joan never saw any of them that way, Harley most of all. From the first day she arrived, Joan had liked her. Over time a sort of friendship grew between them, even if Harley had seemed a bit distant sometimes. Now she knew why.

She had been blaming herself for not catching Harley's fall sooner. Perhaps all of this could have been avoided if she had been more attentive. That's why she was so adamant about taking her on as a patient. Joan refused to believe Harley was beyond saving. Sometimes she worried that she was too close to her patient, but in her heart she knew that she could keep it professional. She was not like Harley.

Joan had also begun to blame herself for the whole ordeal they were dealing with now. She had signed Harley's release too soon. She wasn't ready, but Joan just wanted her to be there so very badly. Jeremiah Arkham had already talked to her about it. He said that it wasn't her fault in any way, and after all, he had agreed to sign the release as well. Jeremiah continuously tried to bring Joan up by telling her that she was one of the best doctors they had. She wanted to believe it.

She returned to work the following day as burnt out as the night before, to find a note waiting for her on her desk. It simply said, "He's at it again. – J. Arkham." This was not the way she had wanted to begin her day.

Joan knew perfectly well of whom the note was referring: Dr. Roberts. He had repeatedly expressed interest in taking Harley's case from her. It'd be much easier to keep her patient if she could prove that progress had been made. As it was, Joan didn't feel like she had much of a leg to stand on, but firmly believed that she was better suited than Dr. Roberts to treat Harley.

Roberts currently had only one patient, the Joker himself. Most people might find it odd for any doctor to have merely a single patient, but Arkham Asylum wasn't like most psych-wards. A certain amount of bribery, for lack of a better word, was needed to keep employees on. For example, any member of the security staff that remained on duty for a paltry ten years was granted retirement. Any doctor that would be willing (so long as it was approved by Dr. Arkham himself) to take the Joker's case was allowed to drop all others. Few people wanted to deal with him based on concern of their mental and physical well-being and most saw him as a fulltime workload anyway.

Joan remembered Jeremiah offering her the Joker's case not so very long ago. He had called her into his office one morning…

_"Dr. Leland, I think you are ready," he said with a smile. "Actually, I think you could have handled him sometime ago, but I didn't want to subject you to the idea until you were a little more seasoned."_

_"Handle who?" Joan asked, even though she already knew where the conversation was heading._

_"The Joker, of course," he responded. Jeremiah honestly seemed excited for her, as though if he portrayed the prospect as being a positive thing, she might actually be fooled into thinking it was one._

_"I take it Dr. Savanna has had enough," she smirked._

_"Well…yes, something about his family being threatened." He flew past this as fast as he could and quickly moved on to, "So, what do you think?"_

_"Sorry, but I'm going to have to decline. Thank you for holding me in such high regards though."_

_Dr. Arkham's mood quickly changed as he slumped in his chair. "I was afraid you were going to say that." He futilely tried to convince her. "Joan, you're one of my best doctors. You might actually make some progress with him. Wouldn't that be exciting?"_

_Joan gave him one of her best 'you must be joking' looks._

_Jeremiah responded to the look by twisting the knife just a touch. "Joan, are you implying that there is no hope for one of our patients?"_

_"I would never say that, sir. But I don't want to wake up one morning thinking it." She was not going to back down, not on this._

_"Alright, alright, I understand. I'll see what I can do to convince Dr. Savanna to stay on awhile longer." Almost as an afterthought and a last ditch attempt he added, "He'd be your only patient, you know. That'd give you a lot more free time."_

_She leaned in and simply said, "No."_

_"You can't blame a guy for trying. But I don't want to keep you. You have to greet our new intern today." The elder doctor laughed. "Say, maybe we should give him to her," he suggested jokingly._

_Joan chuckled softly. "That's why you don't get to greet the newcomers. What was her name again?"_

_Arkham dug through some papers on his desk, emerging with a resume. "Um…Dr. Harleen Quinzel."_

Maybe she should have taken the case after all. Joan sighed heavily. The past could not be erased and the best thing she could do for Harley right now was keep Dr. Roberts away from her.

Joan headed directly to Dr. Arkham's office only to find Dr. Roberts already there. He gave her a smug look as she walked in. Jeremiah looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.

Dr. Roberts had recently been unsatisfied with the perk of having a single patient, at least when it came to Harley. He had suggested on several occasions that working with both may help in understanding the individuals. However, Joan knew what was really going on in Robert's head: big bucks.

Jeremiah began the exchange. "Dr. Roberts is upset regarding the recent use of his patient."

"Without my consent," he interrupted in a clear voice.

"I didn't realize you were over Dr. Arkham," Joan responded.

Roberts shot her an angry look, but continued calmly. "I wasn't suggesting that I was. However, I think that it is only right that I am kept abreast of any counseling sessions _my_ patient attends."

"It wasn't counseling," replied Joan matter-of-factly.

Jeremiah backed this up. "It was more like security measures."

"Your 'security measures' have caused my patient to be given solitary twice in a row. I have lost precious therapy time."

Joan rolled her eyes.

"Furthermore," Roberts continued, "I have repeatedly requested a joint session with these patients and have repeatedly been denied. Joan asks for it once and it's granted."

"Actually, it was my idea," Arkham conceded.

Roberts raised an eyebrow. "Really? Does that mean you are beginning to agree with my theory of working with them together?"

"Well…no, not exactly...like I said, it was for security purposes only."

Roberts wasn't going to let up. He had found his opening. "And it worked, correct?" he asked excitedly.

"Yes, we were able to prevent the attack."

"Don't you see we have only scratched the surface?"

Joan cut in. "We prevented the attack because we were able to prepare the guards! It had nothing to do with anything therapeutic."

Roberts completely ignored this logic. "We should continue to see where this will take us." He turned to Joan. "I wouldn't even have to take Harley. I am more than willing to work with you on this."

It was clear that he was trying to seem reasonable, but Joan showed no sign of backing down.

"You can't honestly think that pursuing this wouldn't provide tremendous insight into our respective patients!" he argued.

"What insight?" Joan reiterated. "All your patient ever says when you ask him about Harley is 'Harley who?'"

Jeremiah decided to cut off the exchange before it became too heated. "Roberts, I need to speak to Leland alone if you don't mind."

Roberts left, but it looked as though he _did_ mind very much.


	2. Chapter 2

Joan could not believe she had given into this. At least she was able to avoid the joint sessions. What she was being forced to do now hardly felt productive though.

_Jeremiah had not wanted to give in to Roberts, but felt he had some valid points. "I was completely behind ignoring them Joan because I thought it would fade on its own. At this point, we have to face the possibility that may not be the case. As such, it would be in our best interest to learn as much as we can. He hasn't killed her yet…Doesn't that mean something?"_

So here Joan was, following a couple of psychopaths and analyzing what she observed. God, she felt like she was in high school…well, minus the psychopaths.

The difficult part was not to look obvious about it. She wanted to keep as discreet as possible. On top of that, it wasn't easy to find a time they were really able to socialize. The doctors always attempted to keep them apart as much as possible. Meals were the easiest time to conduct her observations. All the inmates ate together unless one was being punished or refused to leave their cell and each doctor took turns monitoring the meals of the day along with the security, so she wouldn't attract any undue attention.

* * *

_Observations: One_

Harley was standing in line behind Cornelius Stirk. Those behind Harley were beginning to grumble in frustration as Stirk looked over the food selections again and again with growing disappointment. Harley, ever the psychiatrist, leaned over to him.

"The beef looks pretty rare today," she suggested casually.

Cornelius seemed to accept this and finally left the line looking rather pleased, despite the fact that there were once again no hearts on the menu.

After getting her tray, Harley was flagged down by Poison Ivy. She smiled and started walking toward her friend, but caught the Joker out of the corner of her eye. Joker showed absolutely no interest in her whatsoever. He didn't even acknowledge her presence. Harley looked momentarily unsure of herself and a bit downtrodden, but continued past him on toward Ivy.

Nothing outwardly changed about the Joker, except that he began to noticeably tap his foot underneath the table. Harley halted mid-step, grimaced, and gave Ivy an apologetic look. She quickly turned around and took a seat next to the clown. He immediately stopped tapping and continued to ignore her for the rest of the meal. Harley didn't even try to converse with him, apparently she knew he was still pretty angry with her and that she had better stay in her place.

Joan was impressed at how well they were able to take cues from one another. The pair didn't even need words. She tried to think of anyone she had the same relationship with and came up with no one. The doctor was surprised to find herself momentarily jealous, not of them, but of what they had.

* * *

_Observations: Two_

Once again, Harley was waiting in line for her meal when the Joker was escorted into the room.

"Harl!" he called out. It was clear that he wasn't interested in waiting at the end of the line.

He cut in front of Harley as those behind her began to protest. The Joker glared dangerously at those at the back of the line and they fell silent. Harley was literally bouncing behind him. This was the first time he had spoken to her since 'the incident' and she didn't seem to care that it was only because he wanted to be at the front of the line.

"How you been, Puddin'?" she asked, testing the waters.

"How do you think I've been? I'm still in this hellhole!"

Harley ignored this comment and looked worriedly at his tray. "Puddin' don't forget your veggies. They're good for you."

Joker pointedly piled more meat onto his plate. Harley obediently followed behind him with her own food. There was a brief period of time where Joker tried to make her carry his tray along with hers, but he got tired of his meals constantly ending up in the floor.

They headed toward what was called the 'elite table'. The most notable inmates sat here if they wished, but it was made clear that no one else was welcomed.

A loud crack was heard at the end of the table. "ARRGH!" shouted the Riddler in frustration as he threw a broken plastic fork across the room. "How do they expect us to eat this slop with plastic? Either provide us with real food or real utensils!"

"Settle down!" said one of the guards and Eddie didn't seem to think it was worth continuing.

"Surely, one of you can come up with better conversation than this." The Joker placed the back of his hand to his forehead and leaned back in mock anguish as Harley tried to console him. "Alas, it appears that it falls on me yet again."

It was plain that all present would much rather it did not and before he could continue a coin shot up into the air. The guards tensed and everyone watched to see it land unscarred face up and then looked at Two-Face expectantly.

"Remember that show 'Night Court'? You never see reruns of it anymore." Apparently, Harvey had taken it upon himself to save everyone else from the clown.

Joker nodded. "Now that was a funny show. But then, how could a show about a bumbling court room not be?"

It was very rare that Two-Face and the Joker agreed on anything, so everyone felt pretty safe joining in. They each recounted their favorite scenes and episodes. Even some of the guards listened in and chuckled at places. Typically, the silence in the building was immensely oppressive; being broken only by insane cackles or screams resonating down the halls. The tension level dropped dramatically as the room was filled with chatter and laughter. Then Harley had to interrupt.

"What's 'Night Court'?" Harley asked naively.

The conversation instantly stopped as all eyes turned on her. Scarecrow leaned across the table and explained, "Before your time, dear."

"Oh," she responded simply and she went back to eating while humming loudly.

If the Joker was capable of embarrassment, he would have been. As it was, he had a relatively small range of emotions. Basically, you would either find him in a good mood or pissed off. He was right on his way from one to the other, but got stuck at annoyed and turned his attention back on his food, stabbing at it a little more violently than necessary.

Harley had single-handedly killed the conversation…and the tension in the room began to rise once again.

If Joan didn't know better, she would have sworn that Harley knew what she was doing even if it was only on a sub-conscious level. It was as though she was purposely pushing Joker's buttons and playing stupid about it…maybe because he had been giving her the cold shoulder lately.

* * *

Joan had been at this for a couple of weeks now and was quickly becoming weary of the assignment. Not because it wasn't interesting; even she had to admit that it was. There was just only so much information one could gather from them in this setting. Everyday was relatively the same. It wasn't as though she wanted a look into their private lives, but she was left feeling as she had from the beginning: that none of this was going to prove very productive. Between the silent cues and the button pushing, her evaluation was beginning to look like 'old married couple' anyway and she found that more than unsettling.

She was looking through her notes as she walked down the hallway. This led to a collision with someone else coming toward her from the opposite end of the hall and her notes went flying. Unfortunately, the person she collided with was Dr. Roberts. Joan knelt to the floor, trying to scoop up the papers quickly while apologizing.

"Quite alright Dr. Leland, let me help you out," he responded ever so politely.

"No!" Joan replied too rashly, but quickly regained her composure. "I mean, it's really no trouble. I don't want to keep you."

Roberts looked understandably confused and bent down to pick up one of the papers anyway, his curiosity peaked. He glanced over it and was not at all happy with what he found.

"What is this!" he demanded.

Joan sighed. "You'll have to take your concerns to Dr. Arkham, I'm afraid."

She held out her hand for the paper and he grudgingly gave it up to her.

Roberts continued down the hall fuming. He didn't have to take this. Dr. Leland had been given use of his own patient _again_ , while his requests were repeatedly denied. The obvious favoritism made him sick. More importantly, now he saw Joan for what she really was. For all her preening and posturing, she wasn't any better than the rest of them. It had all been a guise so she could be handed the most distinguished inmates without question. He had offered to share the meal ticket with her, but now all bets were off.


	3. Chapter 3

The following day was very much like any other for Joan. She went through her schedule with little incident to report. Upon returning to her office in the middle of the day, she found a message waiting for her. All it said was 'Common room. 2:15pm.' She looked at her watch. It was only two minutes until then. She had no idea what this was about nor who sent it, so she signaled a guard to follow her.

As Leland was discovering her note, Harley Quinn was being escorted to the common room. She was in a pretty good mood (but then, she generally was) and it was outwardly apparent as she hopped down the hallway.

"Stop bouncing!" the guard escorting her demanded.

Harley retaliated in her usual mature manner by sticking her tongue out at him. "Nyah!"

The guard opened the door and Harley was happy to find Ivy sitting on the couch.

"Hiya Red!" she announced her presence cheerfully.

Then another head shot up from behind the couch. The Joker had been lounging in it; trying to give a disgruntled Ivy as little room as possible.

"Puddin'?" She tilted her head to one side curiously.

"Harley?"

They were both fairly confused, but not as much as the guards, who were in a corner of the room, going over the schedule, trying to figure out where they went wrong, and more importantly, making sure it wasn't their fault. Much to their surprise, they had indeed read the schedule correctly.

"Puddin'!" She bounded up to the object of her affection and draped herself over him. Ivy scowled as she was now fighting two pairs of feet at the end of the couch instead of one.

The Joker was caught momentarily off guard. However, he was quick to catch the jealous glances of the other males in the room as Harley pressed her lithe form up against him. This made his grin grow even wider and he decided to allow her to continue showing her adoration, while pointedly looking at different inmates. Several people turned away disgusted as one of Joker's hands traveled up her shirt, causing Harley to squeal and capture his lips with fervor.

The entire situation was very awkward for the guards. It was just like the doctors to not clue them in. They shifted uncomfortably in place while shooting questioning glances at one another that said: "What do we do now?", "How far is inappropriate?", and "Maybe you'd like to take one of them back to their cell?" None of them wanted to be the one that made the first move though.

Joan had arrived in front of the common room and found nothing. She had expected to find whoever sent the note waiting for her here, but then, one never really knew what to expect in Arkham. She looked through the two-way mirror into the common room and was not at all happy with what she saw.

"What the hell?" she asked to no one in particular and instructed the guard that followed her to get one of his co-workers out here for an explanation. He switched places with one of the guards inside the room.

"Mind explaining exactly what is going on here?" she addressed the guard sternly.

"Actually ma'am, we were hoping you could tell us." He presented her with the schedule that was handed to the security staff for the day.

"This doesn't make any sense," Joan said to herself as she looked over the schedule.

"It was probably just a mix up," the guard replied rationally. "These things happen. Remember that time Croc was accidentally given stimulants instead of sedatives? That was a hell of a thing."

Apparently, the action was getting a little too hot on the couch as one of the guards was trying to get the attention of those outside for instruction.

Inside, Harley and Joker's faces were seemingly glued together, and both of the tiny blonde's hands had disappeared inside of his pants.

"For god's sake, get a room!" Ivy shouted, completely fed up. "Can I please go back to my cell?"

The inmates were never forced to participate in the common room so a guard said, "Sure, anyone else want to go?"

Every hand in the room shot into the air, aside from the two moving right along into a heavy make-out session on the couch.

Joan was massaging her temples as she told the guard next to her to get the two of them out of there.

The guards forced the clowns apart while the Joker made comments like: "Get your own date" and "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful."

As they were being escorted out of the room Harley protested, "I didn't do nuthin' wrong!"

"Denial is the first sign that you have a problem," Joker said, mocking a doctor's educated voice.

"This ain't fair!" Harley continued whining as she was pushed on down the corridor.

"Keep fighting the good fight, precious," was Joker's last response before he was pulled down a separate hallway.

* * *

Joan went back to her office and attempted to salvage this ordeal as best she could. At the very least, she could use it for her evaluation. "Subject one treats subject two as arm candy." Joan laughed. Sometimes you just had to laugh or risk going insane yourself.

It was obvious to Joan who was responsible for the 'mix up'. Dr. Roberts was upset when he left her yesterday and he had access to the patient schedules. No mistake could account for the note she was left. She had a hard time believing that any of the doctors here would be capable of something likes this, but it was all she had to go on. Unfortunately, Joan had nothing to back her theory up. The note was typed, so there wasn't even a way to go by handwriting. This was beginning to develop into an even bigger problem than she had expected.

* * *

Joan tried to remain alert to any other inconsistencies involving her patient, but nothing out of the ordinary happened. Well, at least not for the Asylum, where strange happenings were a common occurrence. Two weeks went by and she was beginning to relax, which turned out to be a mistake as is often the case.

On this disastrous day, Harley turned up missing and it only got worse from there. Being who she was, naturally the first place the guards checked was Joker's cell, only to find him missing as well. This, of course, led to mass panic.

Fortunately, some of the more experienced members of the security staff stepped up to the challenge led by Cash, the chief of security at Arkham Asylum.

"We take this by the numbers people. We've done this before." He was a natural leader, who had given more than most to the Asylum. Cash brandished a hook to make up for the hand that was lost to Killer Croc's appetite. This battle scar and the fact that he still chose to remain on staff after such an incredible ordeal only served to further establish the admiration and respect of all he worked with.

First stop was the front receptionist as she was located at the main entrance. Here the doors' alarms were only activated after hours, so it was the best means of escape.

When asked if she'd seen either inmate she replied, "No, and tell Arkham that I want another raise."

While the receptionist was being questioned by some, others scanned the security tapes. The recordings revealed some footage of the two escapees wandering the halls, but the cameras near their cells had conveniently been disabled leaving no explanation of how they managed to leave them.

No alarms had been sounded, but that had been bypassed before, so the security staff checked every possible exit and found no sign of forced entry. The cameras backed this up as well. This, of course, still did not mean that they hadn't made a getaway. They obviously must have because they were no longer there, however it didn't make much sense. For one thing, it was in the middle of the day when the staff was at its heaviest. It was practically impossible for them to have made an escape without being noticed. That's when one of the guards made a rather brilliant statement.

"Maybe they didn't leave."

This led to an all out search of the grounds coordinated by Cash. The doctors and other staff members were directed into the break room and set a group of guards for protection. Some protested the treatment, but this was one of the few situations where Cash's word was law and, while he never abused his power, Cash lived for moments like this.

Those that weren't assigned guard duty to the staff or were coordinating the efforts paired up. Each pair was assigned a portion of the building to search. Each guard prayed they would not be the one to find them.

One room after another was thoroughly searched. One door after another was tensely opened. Room after room, door after door until one of the janitor's closets was reached.

"This is one of the stupidest things we've ever had to do," one guard complained to his partner. "Why would they still be here? Just because we don't know how they escaped, doesn't mean they haven't. It happens all the time here. If this place got decent funding, we'd get decent pay and then you'd see a real turnaround."

As he complained, he opened the door to the closet. One would think that, having already dismissed this exercise as pointless, the guard would be even more shocked at what he found, but that would have been impossible.

There stood the Joker, completely nude and thrusting himself into an equally unclothed Harley, who was shoved face first against the cinderblock wall.

"Do you mind?" the Joker asked the guard indignantly.

Harley made a loud, high-pitched scream as she tried to hide her nakedness behind her counterpart.

"Christsakes Harl! That was right in my ear!"

The wide-eyed guard slammed the door shut again and reported back to the group. "…Uh….I found them…and I'm going to need a vacation."

As backup rushed to the scene, the two clowns could still be heard inside the closet.

"Harl, find me something in here to deal with this guy."

"Sure thing puddin', just let me get myself presentable."

It was very cramped inside the small space, and Harley was trying to move quickly. Leaning over to pick up her shirt, she tripped on a bucket and began knocking things about in her struggle to get steady. A mop handle headed for the Joker's head.

"OW! Harley, how am I supposed to kill someone with a mop?" He paused to consider the cleaning tool. "…I suppose I could think of a way, but we don't have the time. Hand me that bleach. We'll dump it down his throat. I haven't done that in awhile."

Meanwhile, Joan was patiently waiting with the rest of the staff to return back to work. Jeremiah was being hounded by every other person in the room as he was often difficult to get hold of and everyone wanted a piece of his time. He was dealing with everything from financial issues to extended vacation leave.

Joan was dealing with a bit of her own problems as well. Roberts was making great efforts to avoid her despite being stuffed into the same room. She found herself wondering if he was responsible for this little escapade as well. That would be unforgivable. The instance in the common room was just a dig at Joan, an attempt to let her know he still held some cards. This time, people's lives were in danger.

After pondering this for some time, she came to the conclusion that he was more than likely not responsible. Roberts may be vindictive, but he wasn't insane. Besides, this really served him no purpose. It's not as though patients hadn't ever managed breakouts without added assistance. However, even with this logic, the thought continued to nag at her.

Suddenly, Cash entered the room. He turned to Dr. Arkham and Joan could see that he was very pleased with himself.

"We've got 'em, sir."

"Excellent job, Cash! Excellent!" Arkham exclaimed delightedly.

"It was a group effort, sir," Cash said proudly.

"Quite so, you are all to be commended." He was now standing next to the security chief and lowered his voice. "Between you and me, I was not looking forward to alerting Commissioner Gordan that, once again, he had an escapee of ours to deal with."

Everyone exited the room and went back to their regular schedules, except for Joan who joined Arkham and Cash.

"Have they been subdued yet?" she asked.

"Not yet ma'am, but I have half my staff down there. It's only a matter of time," he responded confidently. "I'm heading down there myself."

"We will join you," Arkham said, signaling for Leland to follow him.

Upon arriving at the scene, Joan saw a large number of guards standing around a janitor's closet.

"What are you all waiting for?" Cash demanded. "Get them outta there!"

"We don't know what they might have in there with them, sir," replied one of the guards.

"So we're just going to hang around in this hallway all day? You," he pointed at the guard closest to the closet. "Open that door."

The guard did as he was instructed revealing the two lunatics inside, mercifully dressed.

Joker looked at the bleach still in his hand and then to the crowd. "Stand back or I'll ruin all of your clothes." He shook the bottle of cleanser menacingly.

The guards quickly collected both patients and were about to return them to their cells when Jeremiah signaled them to stop.

The doctor approached the Joker purposefully. "I don't understand, Joker. Why not try to escape?"

The Joker looked confused. "Why not have sex in a closet?"

Everyone was silent after this comment and Joker felt he was expected to say something else.

"Armadillo is a funny word."

The silence continued.

"Your turn, Harl. Give us a funny word."

Harley scrunched her face in thought and eventually came up with, "Rutabaga!"

Joker let out a loud laugh. "Ain't she a pip!"

Arkham allowed them to return to their cells directly following this highly nonsensical conversation. Joan sighed as she headed toward her office. This was more for her evaluation she supposed.


	4. Chapter 4

The following week, Dr. Roberts was pacing nervously in his office. He had already set things into motion, but it wasn't too late to back down. There was no way he would not be connected to what he was about to do. What if he was fired? Impossible, Jeremiah would never let him go; he was far too desperate for employees as it was. Sure, he might get reprimanded, but this was worth it. Besides, it was the only recourse left open to him. He was being treated most unfairly and it was up to him to level the playing field or back off completely and Roberts was never one to back off a dollar.

He continued trying to convince himself that he had made the right decision when he suddenly stumbled over a bucket. Fortunately, he caught his footing before hitting the ground. In the corner of his office, Roberts spotted some other cleaning supplies carelessly left lying about. Blasted janitors, how dare they make a mess of his work space? He gave a quick kick to the bucket, but it did little to satisfy his frustration with the world.

Earlier that week, Roberts had altered the patient schedule once again. If Dr. Arkham wasn't going to give him what he wanted, he would just take it anyway. He was going to be doing his regular session with the Joker this afternoon, but had arranged for Harley to be brought in shortly after they had begun.

"What's on the menu today, Doc?" Joker commented as he entered the room casually.

"Actually, something quite different," Roberts replied, checking his watch. "But we still have a few minutes."

The doctor allowed his patient to prattle on (something about pineapples).

"It's not an apple and it doesn't come from a pine. That's comedy, Doc."

Roberts wasn't really paying attention to the ramblings. His mind was still racing when Harley finally entered the room.

"Hey toots!" Joker cat-called. "We just seem to keep bumping into each other lately. If we aren't careful, people will start to talk."

Harley beamed back at him.

A small voice inside Roberts told him that it was not too late. He could still set things right. Just tell the guards there had been a mistake. But a much larger voice said he _was_ setting things right, so he turned and addressed Harley.

"Please, make yourself comfortable."

Harley bounced across the room and into the Joker's lap, holding his head tightly to her chest.

Joker rolled his eyes. "He didn't say to make me uncomfortable, Harl."

"Sorry Mistah J," she chirped, releasing her stranglehold.

"That was quite a stunt you two pulled the other day," the doctor began neutrally.

"Oh pish posh," Joker waved away what he obviously thought to be a compliment. "Why that was barely anything at all, just needed some private time with my girl."

He pinched Harley's cheek rather rougher than necessary. Harley let out a tiny squeak, but Roberts couldn't tell if it was out of happiness or pain…perhaps a combination of the two.

Roberts continued undaunted. "I'd like this to be a rather free session as I have never worked with the two of you together. I hope for this to become a somewhat regular exchange. Would either of you like to share anything?"

The Joker looked disgusted. "I don't swing like that, Doc." Harley, in turn, giggled uncontrollably.

Roberts had been Joker's therapist for sometime now. He was used to these kinds of comments and had become quite adept at ignoring them, so he turned to Harley instead.

"What about you, Ms. Quinn?"

Before she had a chance to respond, the Joker (never one to allow the spotlight to deviate from him) began again.

"Y'know what, Harl? I think my dear doctor is trying to get inside our heads."

Harley appeared confused. "…Well…That's kinda his job, Puddin'."

"Harley," Joker addressed her unhappily.

"Y-Yessir?" Harley asked timidly.

"Shut up." It was all he had to say.

"Yessir." She was obviously not playing her role correctly.

He turned his attention back to Roberts and snapped his fingers.

"I've got an idea! I know just how to help you out, Doc."

Roberts peered at him skeptically.

"No really. This is just what you need. You want to understand us, right?"

"Correct," he replied, nodding slowly.

"Well, no one understands us better than our victims! Harl can back me up on this."

"Oh, absolutely Mistah J."

Roberts was on his feet instantly, but Joker quickly crossed the room and pushed him back down into his chair.

"No need to thank me, Doc. It's my pleasure."

Roberts began yelling frantically for the guards.

"I'm afraid they won't be joining us today. Did you know our dear guards are suffering financial problems? Harley could barely stand the thought, so we decided to give them a hand."

The doctor froze at this point, the consequences of his actions sinking in.

"The bad news Doc, is that this is going to be our final session." He wiped away a mock tear. "The good news is, I finally figured out how to off a guy with a mop!"

Harley cart wheeled to the corner of the room with the cleaning supplies and back, presenting Joker with the mop.

"Doc, you don't sword-swallow for a hobby, do you? I'd hate for you to survive this."

Harley immediately pried Roberts' mouth open and Joker thrust the mop handle down his throat. It took some work, but after a bit of shoving, twisting, and various noises coming from the doctor, he managed to get the whole thing down there.

They stepped back to admire his handiwork. The working end of the mop was the only portion sticking out. Harley thought it made a pretty funny looking beard. Blood trickled down the corners of his mouth, staining his crisp white coat.

"Well, that was fun. How long 'til the guards show back up?"

Harley glanced at the clock on the wall. "About thirty minutes."

Joker flashed a charming smile. "Feeling frisky?"

Harley squeaked again and if the doctor could have heard, he would have known she was happy.

* * *

Funerals were becoming all to frequent for Joan and she thought it odd as her line of work was intended for healing. Roberts was not a doctor she ever truly respected, but he didn't deserve this. Joan saw the departed doctor's wife. She seemed to be the strong type and barely allowed a tear to show. Her young son was there as well, trying to come to terms with his father being taken from him. Joan didn't even know Roberts had a family. He didn't seem the type.

The worst part was Joan once again found herself feeling guilty. If she would have approached Jeremiah about her fears regarding Roberts when she first began to suspect them, maybe they wouldn't be attending a funeral today. She cursed herself for selfishly thinking about her own guilt rather than focusing on the passing of a co-worker.

The following days were even darker than usual at the asylum. Shortly after the funeral, one of the members of the janitorial staff had broken down. It turned out that she was paid off to leave the cleaning supplies in Roberts' office. She almost didn't accept the offer, but then convinced herself that nothing too harmful could be done with the materials she'd left. Of course, some of the guards were suspected too. They never showed back up for work though. Either they were paid very well, or things went farther than they had expected.

After Roberts' body was found, both the Joker and Harley were taken to solitary, for what good that would do. Joan didn't want the extra time given to her by Harley's confinement. She didn't want to think, so she buried herself in work like she always did and completed her assigned evaluation. Of course, she was sure that there was much more she could do on it, but Joan had become even more bitter towards the project than she was when she had begun it. She then submitted it to Dr. Arkham with no fanfare.

Later that week, Jeremiah showed up at her office.

"Busy?" he asked casually.

"Not really," Joan replied. "Come on in."

He sat down and there was an uncomfortable silence before he began talking again.

"I knew there was a reason they didn't try to escape."

"…I hadn't even thought about it," she admitted. "It makes sense. Joker probably started working on his death that day."

"I came by to tell you that your evaluation was very solid work. I know you weren't really interested in doing it, but this is probably the closest we've gotten yet to understanding how they interact on the outside."

Joan was silent again. She didn't even give a physical response.

"Joan, what's troubling you? You can talk to me," her employer reassured her, watching with concern.

He expected her to say something about Roberts, her feelings of regret regarding Harley, or the mind-numbing lack of progress any of them seemed to make in the grand scheme of things. Jeremiah certainly did not expect what came next.

"They're happy, aren't they?"

Dr. Arkham was confused. "Who are you talking about?"

"Joker and Harley," she said and her eyes were beginning to water. "They are genuinely happy and it's not fair. It's not fair that they get to be who they are and happy, and I am who I am and not!"

"They reside in a world of their own making with no regards to the consequences of their actions. In short, they live in a fantasy world, and who wouldn't be happy with that? …But it's not real, Joan." He was now becoming very concerned. "I think you are too close to this project and these patients and that is my fault…"

Joan interrupted him with a short laugh and smiled at him warmly. The smile made him feel better somehow.

"I'm fine, Jeremiah, really." She rarely called him by his first name. Joan grabbed a tissue and took a moment to calm down. "It's just…Harley feels complete simply by being around him. She finds happiness in his happiness, however sick that might be, to the point she has become what he wants. …Can you think of anyone that you feel that way about, or that feels that way about you?"

"I don't think I'd want to, Joan."

"Neither would I, at least not to that extreme, but you know what I'm getting at."

He did know. "No…there's no one I can think of. I'm rather married to my work though."

She nodded. "So am I, but I've decided that it is not enough." She blushed. "…I have a date tonight. He seems like a really nice guy."

"That's wonderful Joan." He smiled at her. "In fact, I want you to take the rest of the day off to get ready."

She shook her head quickly. "I can't do that! I have a session with Ivy in a couple of hours."

"Tell you what. I am going to go speak to Ms. Isley personally, and if she feels she is on the verge of a breakthrough, you may stay," Jeremiah insisted, winking at her in a friendly manner.

They both laughed and Joan's smile grew even brighter. "Thank you, sir."

Joan wrapped things up quickly in her office and then headed out the door towards her car. She had a new outlook on life and a big night ahead of her.


	5. Epilogue

_Three Months Later_

The Joker and Harley were once again on the run, having just escaped the asylum. The two maniacs sat together in the back of the getaway car, while some hired goon chauffeured them around town. Harley hung her head out of the car window much like a puppy on its first car ride.

"Hello Gotham!" she greeted the city happily.

She always enjoyed this part the best, Harley thought absently. When they had just made their getaway and were once again back on the streets. The sudden freedom was intoxicating and Mistah J was always in a good mood after escaping.

"If you keep announcing us to the world like that, we won't be out here very long," he chided her.

She could tell by his tone and his smile that he wasn't really angry. In fact, he felt much the same way she did. Still, it was best to not push your luck when it came to her Puddin's temperament, so she brought her head back inside the vehicle and rolled up the window.

Harley suddenly sat at attention. "What are your first orders, Puddin' Bossman Sir?" She gave him a salute.

"At ease soldier," he saluted her back.

The rest of the drive was filled with him elaborating on several ideas he had been developing, while Harley continuously told him how brilliant he was. It was one of his favorite pastimes. However, the subject matter eventually took a turn to something Harley had been struggling to avoid for months.

"He made some nice gurgling noises toward the end there, didn't he?" The Joker commented, referring to Roberts.

"Y-yeah Puddin', you sure showed him." She really wished he would just drop it already.

"Something is bothering you, Harl. Let Daddy make it better."

Harley wasn't playing anymore. "Why do you keep bringing him up?" She couldn't look at him because she didn't sound like his little Harley Quinn anymore. She was Harleen Qunizel and could never face him like that. She had to take a stance though, because she already knew the answer.

"Because the job's not done. You know that." There was a dark edge to his voice now. He could only think of a couple of occasions when Harley had spoken to him in such a manner since she had become his. He never liked it. "Those quacks act like they can psychoanalyze and manipulate me without my knowledge. It's insulting."

"You've already made your statement. They'll back off."

"No no no," he shook a finger at her. "It doesn't work if we play favorites. Leland still has to pay."

She took a deep breath, trying to prepare herself. No one knew how to approach the Joker better than she did. The trick in a situation like this was to tell him he's wrong without actually saying "You're wrong." That was a death sentence.

"You don't know Joan like I do," she began carefully. "She had no interest in that assignment and would like nothing better than for things to go back to how they were. In a way, she's the best protection you have. Get rid of her and you've lost your first line of defense."

"You know what I think, Harley? I think you like her and don't want me to give her what she's got coming."

"You know what I think?" she shot back. "I think you're scared to death that they're going to find some weakness in you through me!"

He slapped her. Hard. She knew that she had gone too far the moment she had said it. His eyes flashed as he put his long fingers around her slender neck and began to squeeze.

"P-puddin'," Harley managed to cough out. She had reverted back and wore her mask like a shield. He released her, but not without giving her another quick blow to the face.

The Joker sat in silent, deep thought and Harley knew not to make a sound. She sat perfectly still and tried to breathe as quietly as possible.

He knew Harley did indeed want to keep the doctor alive for personal reasons. That didn't change the other facts she presented though. For now, he decided that it was best to keep Leland alive. He absolutely hated it when she was right and would never let on that he actually thought such a thing.

After what felt like an eternity to her, he finally spoke.

"I feel like Chinese tonight."

Harley smiled happily in the knowledge that she had won a small battle.

"Whatever you say, Puddin'."


End file.
